


stay close like the monuments

by harperuth



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Academy Era, Breaking and Entering, Multi, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:21:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23401399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harperuth/pseuds/harperuth
Summary: It started, as most things tended to, with a dare.- - -Giveaway fic for Rats, who asked for tfa Elita/Optimus/Sentinel messing around at the academy!
Relationships: Elita One/Optimus Prime/Sentinel Prime
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	stay close like the monuments

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TrenchcoatRats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrenchcoatRats/gifts).



> thank you rats for following and the really great prompt!!
> 
> title is from 'summer' by fireworks

“Okay, that could have gone better,” Elita murmured, draped across Optimus’s back. He hiked her further up, slipping a digit into a seam behind her knee joint and earning a sharp bite behind his audial.

“Rude,” Optimus murmured back. They both watched Sentinel doing his best, and failing, to talk his way out of trouble with the dorm security, “We probably shouldn’t have left him.”

“He’s gonna be mad tomorrow,” Elita agreed. She didn’t sound bothered by this prospect, “But he also didn’t listen, so…”

“So,” Optimus agreed. Sentinel was clearly entering into the dressing down and punishment portion of the lecture; Optimus recognized _that_ feeling he was displaying all too well.

Elita kicked her heels into Optimus’s hips, “Home, shuttle.”

“ _Rude_ ,” Optimus jostled her again, but turned back to his and Sentinel’s room.

\- - -

It started, as most things tended to, with a dare.

“Absolute pitslag,” Cliffjumper taunted.

“It does seem entirely unlikely for Ultra Prime, as dedicated as he is to the modest living of all Elite Guardsman, to have a personal transport that he would use for any means. It just doesn’t fit the image and he certainly doesn’t strike as a hypocrite,” Blurr backed him up.

“It’s true!” Sentinel took another swig from their illicitly brewed high grade and leaned more into Optimus’s side.

“I dunno,” Elita smirked from Sentinel’s lap, stretching and laying her legs across Optimus, “Seems fake.”

Optimus rolled his optics at her, curling his digits around her ankle joint before she got _ideas_. He knew when she was just stirring up smelt. Sentinel still didn’t.

“Well, I’ll prove it then!” Sentinel yelled. 

“Quiet,” Red Alert hissed, smacking the back of his helm. Sentinel glared, twisting and burrowing his shoulder joint into one of Optimus’s lateral seams, “You know it’s past curfew.”

“Prove it how?” Cliffjumper looked positively Con-like, grinning in the light of high grade and a few glow crystals.

“I already hate this,” Optimus whispered. 

Elita kicked him.

\- - - 

“Shh,” Elita hissed, slapping a servo across Sentinel’s opening mouth. Optimus suppressed a giggle. Somewhere between ‘prove it’ and ‘attempting grand theft transport’ Red Alert had managed to get all three of them to sample her newest high grade experiment.

It was potent.

“Optimus, get up here,” Elita was by far the most steady of all of them, but not by much.

“What?” Optimus whispered, “No. Why?”

“Primus’ sake,” She reached her servo back, waving at him, “It’s a physical lock and you’re the only one of us nerdy enough to know how to pick that.”

Sentinel snickered. Optimus kicked him as he passed.

He peered at the lock. Or tried to. There were currently two locks passing back and forth his field of vision. He cycled his optics. Make that three locks.

“I think,” He said gravely, “That I’m too overcharged for this.”

“Quitter,” Sentinel taunted.

“You’re so mean to me,” Optimus pulled a couple pieces of spare wire out of his subspace, crossing his optics and urging the visual feed to coalesce into one, “Why do I put up with you?”

“Probably because of the time he overloaded you six times in a row,” Elita sounded a little ventless. Optimus stopped his fiddling and glanced over at the two of them and frowned. Sentinel was finally being quiet, with Elita’s neck cabling occupying his mouth.

“Don’t give him a bigger head than he already has,” Optimus turned back to the lock, “You can do that too. He’s not special.”

“Show you special,” Sentinel murmured against Elita.

“Later,” Optimus promised, and ignored the humming in his system as the lock clicked open, “Right now, tada.”

The door swung open into the dark garage. Optimus didn’t realize how much of his weight was resting on the door. He hung for a suspended klik, enough time to see Sentinel and Elita realize what was about to happen, before crashing into the darkness.

“I’m gonna reject,” Optimus groaned.

An alarm started shrieking.

\- - -

Cliffjumper grinned and waved behind the reinforced glass of the now _locked_ dorm door before disappearing up the stairs.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Sentinel said, sounding surprisingly calm.

Optimus rubbed at his nasal ridge, trying to figure out if it was dented from his unintended rendezvous with the floor. It didn’t _feel_ dented, but Sentinel had also laughed at him in a way that usually meant he’d hurt himself visibly. Elita ducked back from where she had been peering around the corner.

“Incoming, incoming, we need to _go_ ,” She batted Optimus’s servo away from his face. He felt the warm hum of her outlier ability in his wiring.

“Go where?” Optimus asked.

“Up,” Elita hissed, shooting a new grapple up and disappearing, “Roof, roof, roof.”

“Sentinel,” Optimus grabbed at his shoulder joint, “C’mon.”

“Frag off,” Sentinel growled, still muttering threats towards Cliffjumper.

“Sentinel,” Optimus looked up at Elita, who was gesturing frantically for them to come up, “Someone’s coming.”

“I’ll figure it out!” Sentinel said through clenched denta. Elita whistled once, high and sharp. Optimus shrugged and deployed his grapple, heading for the roof kliks before dorm security turned the corner.

\- - -

“The both of you can suck exhaust for the rest of my functioning,” Sentinel complained as he stomped back into their room, “I can’t believe you didn’t—”

Optimus couldn’t see her behind him, but he knew Elita was grinning like a sharkticon, “Close the door.”

“You left me behind to take all the punishment so you could _frag without me_?” Sentinel sounded less and less mad with each word though. Optimus tracked his approach with hazy optics, frame shuddering and trying not to stir Elita’s spike in his valve.

“Don’t touch him,” Elita purred. Optimus whined, vents hitching as Sentinel dropped his servo, which Optimus was certain was reaching for some part of his array. “He’s not allowed to overload until you do.”

“That so?” Sentinel grinned. Optimus held back a sob as Sentinel stepped back and settled down on the opposite berth, “Might take a while.”

“I hate you both,” Optimus groaned, freezing up as Elita pulled out and thrust back in sharply.

“I can make this a lot longer for everyone if you don’t wanna be nice,” Elita rolled her hips in a slow grind that made Optimus squirm, “Come on, Sentinel. Thought you were gonna show him something special.”

“If you make a spike joke right now,” Optimus managed to cut in as Sentinel opened his mouth, “I won’t touch the fragging thing for the next orn.”

Elita burst into laughter at Sentinel’s put out look.

\- - - 

“Well?” Red Alert hissed over their morning fueling, “What happened?”

“Yeah,” Blurr vibrated in his seat, “Dorm security was sniffing around and we had to pack everything up and head to our rooms. Is it real? Did you find it?”

Sentinel groaned, head down on the table.

“Somebody up late on punishment detail?” Cliffjumper sounded far too smug. 

“Optimus, I’m not calling your valve anything but Punishment Detail from this moment on,” Elita crowed, “That’s so perfect, I might make it a name tag.”

Red Alert laughed halfway through a sip of fuel, spraying it across her own face and dropping the cube.

Optimus took a careful sip of his own, refusing to react. He heard Sentinel’s vents heave next to him.

“Don’t worry,” Elita reached behind him to pat Sentinel’s shoulder joint, “Something Special can have one too.”

Optimus clamped his vents shut so hard that something _snapped_.

\- - - 

“I am not technically a medic,” Perceptor frowned, digits carefully pulling shards of vent cover out of Optimus.

“Red Alert’s going to replace the cover,” Optimus focused on not squirming, “She just couldn’t get at the shards.”

“Mm,” Perceptor continued on. Optimus continued trying not to flinch away.

“Complete,” Perceptor patted his vent a little absentmindedly. Optimus froze halfway out the room at, “Is Red Alert going to set your nasal ridge as well?”

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me about robots on twitter @floralpunkbarton


End file.
